Free Republic

Sept. 11, 2008 | I have been dreaming about Sarah Palin. (Apparently, I'm not alone.) I wish I could say that I'd been conjuring witty, politically sophisticated nightmares in which she leads troops into Vancouver or kindergartners in the recitation of "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." But, alas, mine have been nonsensical, kiddie-style doozies in which she kidnaps my cats, or enjoys a meal with my girlfriends while I bang on the restaurant window. There's also a chilling one, in which a scary witch stands on a wind-swept hill and leers at me. What troubles me most...

I grew up in the wake of the feminist revolution during the 1970s. More and more middle-class women were going out to work while humming the new feminist anthem "I am Woman" by Helen Reddy. Of course, throughout the centuries poor women had often been compelled to work for financial reasons, but they didn't represent the new "girl power" idea that the bra burners espoused. Toiling to put food on the table isn't nearly as exciting as working for the cause. My own mother went back to work when I was in elementary school. She was fortunate that my father...